Words to Live By
by Mail Jeevus
Summary: A discussion about death and what's worthwhile. This is something I wrote at two in the morning due to sudden inspiration. [Oneshot] [MelloxMatt]


_**Words to Live By**_

"_The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time."_

_-Mark Twain_

From the beginning of their friendship to the time now, when things seemed to have changed so much, become a whole lot more complicated, there were some questions left unanswered. Both boys, no matter how stubborn or strong-willed they may have been, knew one certain boundary that they had never crossed; an unrequited knowledge that was almost like a taboo to even think about, let alone put words to.

Mello's taboo was his rosary.

Matt wasn't sure if there ever was a time when the blonde did not wear the thing, either around his neck or wrapped firmly around his wrist, though it was usually the former. This was because he could gain easier access to it, and was often seen stroking the cold material in his absent times: yes, Mello would stare out into the distance, chew on his chocolate bar, and burnish the crucifix hanging loosely from him. It was as though if he let go of it for too long, all meaning that that little pendant brought would vanish. God himself would vanish. And so, the redhead never posed any comments or concerns about this particular aspect of Mello's lifestyle. In fact, that was the only thing he remained mute about.

Likewise, the elder one also had a little nagging feeling that associated itself with his companion. Only, this thing wasn't tangible; it couldn't be traced with the hesitant tip of Matt's fingers as Mello slept. It couldn't be watched with a wanton sense of foreboding and apprehension. It could hardly be named coherently, though through the years, something had at least conjured itself in the blonde's mind.

And this was it:

Matt's loyalty.

Mello questioned it only for the purpose of realizing that no, the other was never leaving his side and yes, he was fully prepared to throw his life away for the sake of…for the sake of…

That there was the million dollar question. What exactly did Mello inspire in Matt that would make him come back again and again, despite everything that had happened, and the certain death that all of the leather-clad male's followers were promised?

This issue had never been touched, much like Mello's rosary, that was until now, now when the oldest couldn't take that nagging curiosity anymore.

"Matt."

There wasn't a response at first, as he didn't expect there would be. Matt was playing feverishly at his game, sweat beading on his forehead as a telltale sign of anxiety in his current task. However, he would never ignore Mello for too long a spell; that just wasn't like him. He was always interested in what the other had to say, no matter how trivial or condescending.

"Why aren't you afraid of death?"

Not quite the way he had intended it to come out, but it did all the same, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Besides, it had effectively caused Matt to save and switch off his game to give this question some serious thought.

"Everyone's scared of death, Mel'," he said unconcernedly, now staring at the wall opposite him.

"You don't seem to be."

"What gives you that impression?"

"You know that following me's going to get you killed, right?"

A hollow chuckle escaped the other's lips. "Yeah, I know."

"And you don't care?"

"Sure I do," he began thoughtfully, eyes darting here and there, but his head never rotating an inch on its sinewy axis. "But you learn to…well, you learn to think past death." He finally looked up at Mello, smiling as though this was the happiest subject in the world, as though he was genuinely cheerful just to be there, in that spot. "I've lived my life the way I dreamed it would happen: playing video games and helping you. If I died right now, I could accept it. Because I'm cool with it; death is okay when you know you've done something worthwhile."

"Yeah, but Matt, you haven't seen the world…you haven't succeeded in anything."

That was all Mello thought about, wasn't it? Winning, in all senses of the word, even applying to other people.

"Hell, Mello, in my eyes, what I've done these past fifteen years at least, well, that is a success." Mello didn't answer, leaving Matt to pursue a different thought process.

"Whadda you think about death?"

The blonde was none to happy with the conversation being redirected to him, but he sighed with it and took time out to think and absorb the inquiry as Matt had, finally opening his mouth to put forth his ponderings. "It comes way too fast," he murmured, suddenly reaching up to toy with his rosary. The taboo. Matt watched this action, entranced, then broke his gaze and shook his head as though washing away the sin.

"Yeah, but aren't you supposed to go to heaven?" the redhead pointed out, obviously making a note about the other's religion. "I hear it's great there. Lots of chocolate, and L will be there, and no one murders like Kira does, and everyone's peaceful…" He trailed off, unable to rattle off anymore perks that heaven could provide. Maybe if he were prepared he could think of a few more, but now he had done nothing more but plunge them into a pensive silence.

"You're right," said Mello determinedly.

He forced a smile and lifted himself off of his seated position, ambling into an obscure direction. There was no definite reasoning behind this movement; he just wanted to put his muscles to use. After pacing once across the living room, his gaze lifted to Matt, who was now staring at him, a bemused stare that locked on the elder one even after the gamer stood as well, crossed the room, and grinned at his companion. Tough as he may be, you could tell that Mello had something disconcerting lurking behind those hardened eyes. And, loyal Matt owing up to his necessities in life, took it upon himself to coax those troubled things out of his friend, at least out where it was tangible, where he could keep a watchful and protective eye on it like he did that rosary that was hanging hypnotically from Mello's neck…

"Hey, Mel'," he said, placing his forehead on the slick leathery texture that made up the older male's shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"Don't be afraid of death, okay?"

"I'm not."

And they left it at that, immobile in the center of the apartment living room, Mello lying through his teeth and Matt accepting it because he could. He let that proclamation of fearlessness fall into the category of the taboo that he never brooded about, because this was almost as dangerous as the process of catching Kira that they were all caught up in.

But he knew that eventually it would ease into the corners of his mind and linger, just like the shimmer of the rosary that Mello wore, a constant reminder that Matt was doing just what he had intended, and that dying was okay with him, just as long as he died for what was worth while.

The taboo: Mello.

"_Loyalty is still the same, whether it win or lose the game; _

_true as a dial to the sun, although it be not shined upon.__"_

_-Samuel Butler_


End file.
